~*~ The events of
this story will incorporate external added elements from the author's
imagination into the already rich and exhilarating canon narrative of the HBO
original series, Oz. For the most part, the canon of the series will
remain intact to preserve a sense of realism to the plot, while also being
sensitive of the time flow of events occurring within Oz.

~*~ Although the
characters to be featured are prominently factual in their given genre, they
are the sole property of Tom Fontana and Barry Levinson, and are copyrighted to
Rysher Entertainment and HBO. All original characters are of the author's
creation and belong to him alone and, as with the rest of the story, may not be
replicated or redistributed in any way without formal consent from said author.

~*~ Underage
reading or any other illegalities is neither encouraged nor condoned in any way
by the author. He also will not tolerate any form of plagiarism towards any of
the words to come, as they are his and his alone. The principal objective is
that of enjoyment and entertainment to you, the reader.

~*~ Address any
type of question and/or feedback to jc71883@hotmail.com, making sure to add a
relation to the story on the subject line of the e-mail to guarantee its
reception.

The Irishman remained
mostly unseen
as he leaned up against a column under the staircase and secretly watched El
Cartel and his men across the quad. He had singlehandedly revived El Norte and
had fortified it with enough new Latino inmates to make him a powerful force. It
looked like they were planning something and O'Reily immediately thought about
Alvarez and what that meant for him. Calderón had made it clear numerous times
before that he was not going to accept Alvarez's decision to stay away from the
gang.

Already, the
similarities between El Cartel and the past leaders of El Norte were starting
to become known. He was more ruthless than El Cid had been and was more precise
and calculating than Morales had been. But, he was falling into the same
pattern and was making the same mistakes the past two leaders had. He was
seriously underestimating and trying to control the loco Latino. O'Reily knew
he had to come up with a plan to prevent Calderón from becoming too powerful,
but also to keep him far away from Alvarez.

Neither of them
could afford to draw any unwanted attention to themselves because of how tense
the air had become inside these walls. Neither could do anything to expose the
partnership, but El Cartel looked like he was going to give Alvarez problems.
For now, he had to focus on slowing down the maniacal madman to keep both of
them safe and completely unlinked to each other. O'Reily saw Redding passing by
and an idea instantly formed itself in his head as to how he could buy himself
more time---even when Torquemada was eventually released.

"Hey, Burr, come
here---come here," he said.

"I don't have
time for you, O'Reily," the man stopped and said. "Got business to take care
of."

"Me too."

"Yeah? Why you
under here then?"

"Waiting. My
business is with you," O'Reily easily said.

"What business
you got with me, son?"

"Bring back the
homeboys, Burr. Gather your men and get back in the tit trade."

"What the fuck
angle are you working now, O'Reily?" Redding asked.

"I hear the
telemarketing thing isn't going too well. And most of your men deal on the side
anyway."

"Used to. They
don't anymore."

"That's only
because Destiny is out of the picture. Once Torquemada comes back, his drugs do
too," the Irishman stated the fact. "Your boys will be behind your back in no
time."

"He floods the
place and those boys who don't listen to me will get what's coming to them."

"Listen to me,
Burr. The telemarketing plan was good for a while but look at where the fuck we
are. Your boys have lost interest and moved back to the only thing they know.
Don't abandon them. Get the homeboys back in the game. Start slinging tits
again and you'll get back all that power you gave up to do this telemarketing
bullshit."

The man said in
his raspy voice, "Power isn't everything inside these walls. If they choose not
to follow me, then they deserve to be abandoned. For every one I lose, I'll
gain one."

"We live in the
same Oz, old man? Power and survival is all we got."

He needed
Redding to get away from his stupid telemarketing mindset and back to the one that
had brought him to Oz in the first place. It was vital that he mended the rift
with his men and took control over them pushing tits again because it would be
another huge blow to Torquemada's already crippled alliance with the niggers.
O'Reily was growing impatient with Redding's good act and wanted him to get
back to being the real leader of the homeboys. The telemarketing bullshit was a
phase that had passed and he needed to get back in the drug trade.

"You know the
warden will shut down the program soon. He doesn't like to see any of us out of
our cages," O'Reily said. "The inmates aren't into it anymore. Time to move on,
Burr."

"I didn't
realize moving on meant going back to the old ways," Redding sarcastically
quipped.

"When the old
way was working just fine, why not?"

"I gave up the
drug trade when Augustus died. It would be an insult to his memory to start
pushing again."

"You'll lose all
your boys if you don't make the right move. You haven't been much of a leader
lately, Burr. Not the kind of leader they want anyway," he said. "When Querns
finally has it with the telemarketing program, where will that leave you? Now
is the time to make a preemptive move."

"Not before I
figure out what you're up to, son. Not before that," the man croaked out and left.

"You'll never
know that, you old fuck," he snickered and laughed. "Not until after it's too
late."

He remained
under the stairs and out of the view of most of the other inmates as his eyes
went back to Calderón and his now healthy gang. If Redding was to take his
advice and get the homeboys back into the drug game, not only would Torquemada
be weakened, but there would be a big enough gang to stand up to El Cartel and
El Norte if they chose to go on the offensive. O'Reily knew how critical it was
for Redding to bring the niggers back into power. There was no way he was going
to let the queen or the warlord hold all the cards inside Em City.

The warden had
to close down the telemarketing center sooner than later for his plan to be
guaranteed. But, Querns was a fucking idiot that did not deserve to be running
the prison because he did not care about anyone but himself. There had been
numerous disagreements between him and the rest of the staff, and none of the
prisoners had any respect for him because of all the programs and recreational
activities he had slashed. He was making Oz feel more like a prison that it
already was.

After lunch, he
walked to work and thought about what his next move should be because everyone
was playing it safe for the moment. Since Urbano, El Cartel had practically
gone into seclusion and was only concerned with multiplying his men. Pancamo
was a sitting duck without Torquemada and his D-tabs to control the inmates.
Redding had to come to his senses and interject his gang back in the drug game
before it was too late. The atmosphere was going to drown him if he did not
strengthen his position.

As he walked
into the infirmary, he looked around and saw that most of the beds were empty.
Mostly, the hospital resembled a ghost town because of how quiet and inactive
the entire prison was recently. O'Reily knew he could not get too used to it because,
if his instincts were right about what was going to happen, the beds would soon
be full with wounded and dying bodies. He looked over at Dr. Nathan's office
and saw Alvarez was in there talking to her. His curiosity got the best of him
but he suppressed it and went to the storage room to restock supplies.

Since their conversation
after he got out of the hole, O'Reily did not know where their partnership
stood. Alvarez seemed to ignore him at every turn and they had not spoken since
that critical conversation. He did not know what was going on and did not want
to accept that their partnership was over---not at this crucial time. The
Latino just needed to cool off and put everything into perspective before they
could move forward. He looked at the list attached to a clipboard and browsed
through the numerous shelves to find the supplies needed to be restock as he
thought about the other man.

"Yo, Irish,"
Alvarez greeted when he entered the storage room.

"What are you
doing here, Alvarez?" he turned around and asked.

"What's it look
like? Working. What you think---I look cute in scrubs, huh?" the Latino said
with that sexy grin of his.

"You're so damn
caught up in yourself---so vain. How do you fit that entire ego inside your
head?"

"The same way
you do, I think. And, it's not being vain if it's true. You look surprised to
see me here."

"I---I kind of
am."

"Why? We agreed
I'd come and work here. Didn't we?"

"Uh---yeah,"
O'Reily said and had since stopped doing his job.

"Okay. Here I
am."

"I don't know where
the partnership stands," he said the truth and felt awkward.

"Don't do that
shit again," the Latino seriously said. "Everything we do, we talk about
first."

"All right.
Yeah, I got it."

"Good. Let me
help you. I think I still remember the procedure," Alvarez joked.

The Irishman was
secretly happy that he was there and that they were putting the hole behind
them to better the partnership. Both men worked together to stock up the cart
so that they could replenish all the items out on the floor. He hated the fact
that Alvarez was able to surprise him this way. It had completely caught him
off guard seeing him here---especially with everything that was going on
between them. O'Reily felt a strange warmth from their bodies being so close
together. He immediately backed away.

"There you are,
Ryan," Dr. Nathan stood in the doorway and said. "I guess you've already
noticed that Miguel will be working here now."

"Yeah, I
noticed," he said.

"Can I see you
in my office?"

"Okay."

She walked away
and he and Alvarez caught each other in a quick look before he left as well.
Now that they had put everything behind them, the hospital was the perfect
place for them to plot plans or pass information to one another. It was
surprisingly private because most of the patients slept a lot because of the
various drugs given to them for their various ailments. And, Dr. Nathan was out
of the office a lot dealing with the inmates who could not be in the hospital
ward or in numerous staff meetings. O'Reily closed the door behind him to seal
them both away.

"What's up?"

"I got the
results of your HIV test back," she said.

"Oh. What---what
does it say?" O'Reily stomach suddenly went into a knot.

"You're fine,
Ryan. The tests came back negative. All your blood work came back negative. You
don't have anything foreign in your system"

"Fuck! That's
great news! Hey, thanks a lot."

"Sure," Dr.
Nathan warmly said. "You needed to be sure."

A weight was
just lifted off his shoulders with the final results of his blood tests being
revealed. He walked out of the office and saw Alvarez replacing used items with
new ones for the patients and hospital staff alike. Their eyes were joined
together again but he dismissed it and went to the back room to revel in the
good news. O'Reily needed a minute for himself to let it all sink in and took a
few moments for it to do so. He went back to the main room and began stripping
a bed when they both noticed as Dr. Nathan came out of her office.

"Ryan, Miguel, I
have to go down to Solitary and then Unit J to examine some patients. I'll be
back soon. The nurse should be coming back from her break within the next half
an hour," Dr. Nathan said and left them alone in the practically empty
infirmary.

"What was that
about?" the Latino asked when he was sure they were alone.

"I got tested. I
had some blood work done to make sure everything was okay."

"Why? Did
something happen to make you think otherwise?"

"Let's go in the
back," O'Reily said and then walked into the back room for a little more
privacy.

"Hey, Ryan, is
something wrong?" he followed and asked.

"Dammit! There
is no easy way to say this."

"So just say
it."

"I had to make
sure I was clean. Especially after you---" O'Reily began to stay but stopped
because he could not continue with the words.

"Oh---I get it.
You think I gave you something," Alvarez said and finished the awkward words
for him.

"It's not like
there was a condom between us. And this is a goddamn prison."

"See? We're both
good," he said and did not like where the conversation was going.

"You have to be
sure. I have to be sure."

Alvarez face and
expression said more than his words did at the moment. It was a big moment in
whatever it was they had formed beyond the partnership and he looked like he
was offended and maybe hurt by the words. O'Reily did not want to have this
conversation here, where someone could easily walk in on them, but they had
just fallen into it and he was going to take the opportunity to get everything
out between them. It had become important to him.

"I'm not
accusing you of anything. We both have to protect ourselves since we can't get
condoms without raising suspicion."

"Don't say it!"
the Irishman quickly cut him off because he could not hear the words now.

"Well, it
happened. And you got nothing from me."

"Please, loco. I
need you to do this so that we can both know. It's just to be safe."

"Shit, man.
Fine," he reluctantly agreed. "I'll tell Dr. Nathan---tell her I got an
infection when I was in the hole and want to have my blood tested. Just to be
safe."

"Sounds good.
Okay."

"You know, we're
going to have to talk about it. It did happen, you know."

"You're fucking
kidding me! Of course I know it happened," O'Reily prematurely snapped but did
not mean to.

Now was the time
to get answers and fill in the blanks in his memory as to all that had happened
during their time in that storage room. O'Reily knew he needed to stop acting
like a fucking kid because if he had not wanted it on some level, it never
would have happened. He was no goddamn fag, though. He had spent almost as much
time protecting his ass as he did plotting and working behind the scenes to get
rid of his enemies. No one was ever supposed to know him in that way because he
was never supposed to spread his legs and take it like a bitch.

"I don't---I
don't remember much. Those pills really fucked with me---my head. I took so
many," the Irishman said with a hint of resentment in his tone.

"I know. You
gave me some too. That mixed with D-tabs made for one nasty fucking cocktail."

"Hey, come over
here," O'Reily said and pulled Alvarez by his arm to a secluded corner of the
back room for even more privacy. "Alvarez---I have to ask you something. It's
something I never thought I'd ever be asking in my life. It's difficult."

"You sure here's
the right place to do it, then?" his voice got serious when he asked.

"We won't be
having this conversation long enough for anyone to notice anything. I need you
to give me a straight answer---yes or no. That's it."

"Okay," the
Latino said and was a little confused. "I'm a little confused now."

"That day, you
know, did I, you know, did I---" O'Reily tried to get the words out but they
just would not come.

"What is it,
Ryan? Did you what?"

"Did I beg to be
fucked? Did I beg you to fuck me, Alvarez?" he finally said and his eyes were
glued to the floor because he felt too vulnerable.

"No---I know you
didn't beg," Alvarez confidently said what he remembered from the encounter.
"It wasn't anything like that. The teasing was different, though."

"Okay, stop,"
the Irishman said and felt like he was going to be sick. "I'm going back out
there so that the hacks don't notice we're missing."

"I'll tell you
what I mean later."

The
uncomfortable tension between them was at a formidable high and he walked out
of the back room to finish stripping the unattended bed. As if on cue, the
nurse showed up and was followed by a hack and an inmate complaining of a
stomachache. She began to tend to him and O'Reily got back to work as Alvarez
emerged from the back and busied himself with work as well. A part of him was
relieved to hear that he did not beg for anything, but his brain was running
laps to try to figure out how he had teased the Latino.

It was such a
weird thing and he could not envision himself doing it. Of course, he had never
envisioned himself getting fucked and seeing his own personal stars because of
it either. It felt so different from anything he had ever done sexually and he
was not as convinced as he wanted to be that he did not enjoy it on some level.
Maybe it was the drugs that had made it feel good, and not Alvarez sliding in
and out of him. The sliding that had eventually led to heat and then friction
and then that spot that had made his skin whimper when it was touched. That
spot that had made his blood boil and his urges for pleasure converge in a
hostile takeover inside his brain.

The drugs had
nothing to do with his pleasures that day. They had altered his mind into
allowing Alvarez to go inside him, but the gratification his body had received
from being connected to someone else's had been all natural and created between
them for them. O'Reily dragged the dirty bed linens and dumped them into the
laundry cart to be taken away and cleaned. He was never going to resort to
drugging himself into a stupor again. Cyril was gone and he had to accept that
his younger brother was never coming back.

He did not want
to dwell on his kid brother, but his father's words carved through him like a
well-handled scalpel. What Seamus O'Reily had said to him was unacceptable and
he was not going to put up with any more crap from the old bastard. Regardless
of how the words affected him though, O'Reily was not going to stop the fight
to keep him from death row. Cyril would want him to keep fighting to try to
save their father, and he was not going to let him down again.

"Can you
disappear tomorrow before we come in to work?" the Irishman asked Alvarez when
they were both alone in the medical supplies room.

"The hacks are
making it fucking harder to get lost. I can sneak away though."

"Solitary,
then?"

"The AIDS ward,"
Alvarez replied and quickly looked at him. "It would be better for right now."

"Hey. About
before---" he said lowly and somewhat uncomfortably.

"We'll talk
about it tomorrow. We can use all the fragments to piece together the whole
thing."

"If we can,"
O'Reily said and was unsure if he did want to know everything.

Water sprinkled down on his lightly
tanned skin as one hand pressed into the tiled wall and the other one dangled
almost lifelessly against his side. His head was stuck under the falling water
and his eyes were closed because his brain wanted the freedom. Alvarez let his
thoughts run anywhere else he wanted to be but behind bars and trapped like an
animal. They had just come back from breakfast and his body was itching for a
shower so he indulged himself. He had to find and take advantage of whatever pleasure
he could find in the desolate wasteland that was his home.

He remembered to
the conversation that happened in the infirmary with the Irishman. It had to
have been uncomfortable and frustrating for him not to remember enough of their
sexual encounter to ask the question he did. O'Reily was a private man that never
wanted to talk about his feelings, so asking that question had to have been
difficult for him. Alvarez did not see him any differently since their
intercourse. The man was just as dangerous as he had ever been---probably more
now.

The Latino
wanted to ask him what it felt like---if he had liked it. He was not going to
push because the subject obviously drove O'Reily over the edge. Something he
had sworn he was never going to do or was never going to happen to him had, and
he was having a rough time dealing with what it all meant. The door opened and
he quickly glanced back and became irritated when he saw Calderón enter and
walk over to the sink.

"I hear you're
working in the hospital now," El Cartel said as he applied shaving cream to his
face.

"It's no
secret."

"You become more
valuable to me with each passing day, Alvarez. You know that?"

"I'm not one of
your boys," the loco Latino said and wanted to end his now tainted shower. "My
value don't got dick to do with you."

"True. But it
has everything to do with El Norte."

"Don't you get
tired of sounding like a fucking broken record? Get it through that thick skull
of yours," Alvarez said and shut off the shower because he was not going to
stay anymore. "El Norte and me don't belong in the same sentence anymore. I
ain't ever going back to that bullshit."

"It was
bullshit. How those fuckers in the past ran it was bullshit. El Norte never got
the real respect it deserves."

"And that's where
you come in?" he asked as he was drying off. "Is that it?"

"We'll be the
most powerful gang once I get done in here. If you're smart, you'll be on our
side---the winning side."

"I am on the
winning side---mine. I'm not into any power quest. Don't bother me with this
shit again."

"You don't want
to keep talking to me like that. You said you know who I am," Calderón said and
made it clear he was not to be taken lightly.

"I do know who
you are. That don't mean I'm scared. I'm not one of the gutless pricks you
brought in here. You want to make a move on me? Go ahead and try. It's become a
fucking tradition with El Norte leaders now," Alvarez slipped on his pants and
laughed as he said.

"I'd prefer it
if you were on my side. Laying waste to someone like you would
be---counterproductive."

"I bet."

The man was so
full of himself it was sickening. His ego alone could stand to be chopped down
a few times but Alvarez was not going to get involved in any way with him. He
gathered the rest of his stuff and left the shower room behind to go back to
his pod. In the quad, O'Reily was passively giving him a look because he must
have been looking at him and El Cartel interacting in the shower room. Alvarez
gave him a quick wink and smile before he disappeared upstairs to his pod.

He knew the
víbora's eyes were still on him because he could feel it. It was amazing that
after all this time and all the shit that had gone on between them, none of the
other inmates or hacks knew about their partnership. There may have been the occasional
bouts of mistrust between them, but Alvarez knew that there was no one else in
Oz that was worth the time or effort to create a partnership with. He and
O'Reily was an unstoppable force that none of these fucks had even the
slightest clue about. That was why it was worth it.

His confidence
to go up against El Cartel was mainly his own because he really was not afraid
of the warlord, but some of his assurance did come from the fact that one of
the most dangerous men in the entire prison was at his back. If something were
to happen to him, he knew O'Reily would retaliate back hard. It was the same if
the situation were in reverse as well. They had somewhat come to depend on each
other for survival as well as some level of companionship.

Neither would
ever physically admit that the partnership had dug such deep roots into them,
however. The Latino had never been one to discuss his emotions and he knew
O'Reily was even more standoffish about it than he was. There had been a few
times where they had caught each other in weak moments and that was okay.
Talking and sharing personal thoughts was the foundation of trust between them.
No one ever knew what he wanted to name his son but the Irishman. And, Alvarez found
out that behind all the bravado and lying and plotting, O'Reily was not a bad
guy.

However, he
would never say any of it to the Irishman because he did not want to be killed.
O'Reily was comfortable being the person Oz had made him into and saw most
emotions as extraneous and weak. He really was a decent man behind it all
though. Hints of it had been made public in the past because of how he had
cared and protected his bother Cyril. Alvarez sat on his bed and thought about
all the bad choices and situations they both had made to cause them to be
continually imprisoned away from the rest of the world.

Alvarez walked
through almost maze-like hallways with a hack not far behind him. He had
already been able to secure his disappearance for after lunch today and was
heading to Father Mukada's office because the priest had requested to see him.
The purpose of the meeting was unknown to him, but he was not going to refuse a
chance to go roaming since Querns wanted to keep them locked away for as many
hours as possible. The guard stopped outside and Alvarez knocked on the widely
opened door.

"You wanted to
see me, Padre?"

"Miguel, yes.
Come on in and close the door behind you," Father Mukada said from his desk.

He did this and
sat on one of the chairs on the opposite side of the desk. Despite everything,
the priest always remained on his side and always fought for him. After all the
shit he had done inside this place, the man still had faith in him. Alvarez's
instincts knew there was something more there, but he was a priest. He had
taken an oath to God and it was forbidden to act on such desires. He knew
Father Mukada was fonder of him than of any other prisoner in Oz.

The Latino had
been curious a few times before about how deep the priest's feelings went for
him. He had especially thought about it during the riot so many years ago.
Father Mukada was a professional though, so it probably was not a sexual
attraction. Maybe he was just determined to save Alvarez's soul. Either way,
Alvarez's instincts had never been wrong when it came to people liking him.
Father Mukada may have been a professional, but something was definitely going
on behind that calm smile of his. Neither was ever going to bring it up,
though.

"What's up?" he
asked.

"I wanted to see
how you were handling being off the drugs. I know it can be difficult
sometimes---the withdrawal symptoms."

"I'm past those
cravings. I don't get them anymore."

"So, are you
drug free right now?" the priest asked when he stopped writing.

"I'm clean. I'm
never going back to that shit."

"You seem to
become more dangerous when you're under the influence of drugs. You get more
violent."

"Great," Father
Mukada said and came around his desk to stand in front of him. "I also wanted
to talk to you about the young man I've seen you with a few times already.
Giovanni Vieyra."

"What about it?"

"Miguel, I want
you to stay out of trouble."

"Oh, is that it?
You think I'm bringing trouble on the kid."

"Let's be
honest, trouble does follow you like a magnet," he said and Alvarez was a
little hurt by the words coming from him.

"That's not my
fault. All I want to do be left the fuck alone in here. I don't go looking for
trouble anymore."

"I know that.
Your reputation alone makes you a target. Are you trying to influence this
young man into those ways? The ways of your past?" Father Mukada said to him
and it was obvious that he did not want to be so harsh. "You're not using him,
are you?"

"No. I'm trying
to save his life," the Latino almost snapped but remained under control.

"What do you
mean? Is someone threatening Giovanni Vieyra?"

"No. I feel bad
for him, you know. He didn't grow up on the streets like I did. He doesn't have
the experiences I've had to live with growing up where I did," he said and was
serious about it. "He's a good kid from a good neighborhood who just made one
fucking mistake. I don't want anyone taking advantage of him because he doesn't
have the street smarts I do."

"So, you've
befriended him?"

"The kid's never
been in a gang. He lives in a neighborhood where there are no gangs. Sounds
damn nice, you know? I told him I'd look out for him while he was in. No
bullshit. No secret agenda. It's nothing sinister, Padre."

He knew Father
Mukada was only concerned about him so he did not take it too personally as he
questioned him about his intentions with Vieyra. After all, finding trust in
Oz, especially amongst the inmates, was like finding an autumn-colored leaf
inside the dead of winter. Alvarez left the priest's office shortly after their
visit was over and was on his way to lunch because it had already started. He
meant what he said. He was going to have the young Latino's back and keep him
out of trouble. Keep them both out of trouble.

Alvarez walked
the lone corridor after lunch with his instincts on edge and his mind ready
were he to be found. The warden was spinning out of control with power and
madness and the prison population, as well as the correctional staff, was
growing restless and uneasy with all his new rules and regulations. The Latino
easily found his way inside the room and found a spot to wait for his partner.
He wondered what O'Reily would think of him protecting Vieyra. In the front of
the room, the doorknob wiggled and inconspicuously opened and closed back.

"Anyone see
you?" the Irishman oddly asked.

"No. Why?"

"I thought I saw
a hack following me. We might not have a lot of time."

"All these
fucking rules are crazy. Querns is a goddamn idiot," Alvarez said and sat down
on the ground.

"He's riling up
the prisoners. I don't know why, though," he said and sat too. "I think he's up
to something."

"Or he just
wants to keep us all under lock and key. The man likes his order."

"He keeps
running the prison like this and he'll have anything but order."

The Latino
changed the subject and said, "Heard you were talking to Redding. Spinning your
webs?"

"Uh-huh. Tell me
about it," he said and referred to the conversation with Redding.

"Just to keep
our asses safe. If Redding puts this telemarketing honest work bullshit behind
him and starts the niggers slinging again, the odds would be better stacked in
our favor," O'Reily said.

"Torquemada will
lose his control of the niggers and it'll be another hit to his business."

"Exactly. That
fucking queen will have his hands full when he gets out. Pancamo will have a
few choice words for him too, I bet."

"Don't
underestimate Destiny, víbora. That's his ticket. The prisoners love that shit.
They were easily hooked the first time," Alvarez said what they both knew was
the truth.

Even if
Torquemada did lose the homeboys, his precious D-tabs were going to reel
everyone back to him once he was out of the hole. It was important that Redding
and Calderón started slinging tits again to combat Destiny's hold on the
prison. Though he had lost followers, the queen was still a powerful force
because of his synthetic drug. Both Alvarez and O'Reily knew it and that was
why neither man underestimated him. This was another reason why the partnership
between them had to remain intact.

"He'll want you
back when he comes out, you know," O'Reily slightly changed directions and
said.

"He never had
me," he replied with adamancy in his voice.

"You know what I
mean. He'll want you back on D-tabs."

"Say what you're
trying to say."

"I don't want
you going back on D-tabs. I know you don't see it but he controls you that way,
loco. This isn't about me being jealous or any of that other shit. You have to
have as little contact with him as possible. I need you drug free for the
partnership. Don't let him drug you and turn you against me."

"Is that an
order?" Alvarez asked because he had to be sure.

"No. You told me
you wanted honesty. We work so much better when neither of us is high. We both
have to stay off the drugs and focus and having each other's backs. We have to
be on each other's side."

"Yeah, I know.
I'm done with that shit, Ryan. It fucks with my head too much after I come down.
He won't get anything near me. I'm serious."

"Good," the
Irishman said and felt a shade of relief inside. "I see Calderón hounding you
every chance he gets."

"He's fucking
pissing me off. Doesn't hear shit when I tell him no. I tell him to back off and
he still comes at me."

"Don't go too
hard. He's all powered up with El Norte and is even more dangerous now."

"What---I
thought you liked it when I went hard?" the Latino said in a secretly lewd
manner and smiled that devilish grin of his.

The allusion to
sex made O'Reily's face turn almost completely pale and white and his body
slightly tensed up. That was supposed to be the real reason for them
meeting---to talk about what had happened between them. Alvarez was ready with
another sexual pun as his comeback but all that became lost because the storage
room had fallen into dead silence. It probably was always going to be an
uncomfortable topic for him to talk about, especially with how he felt about
them being together threatening his manhood.

Maybe now was
the time to get everything out in the open---what both of them remembered
anyway. There was no denying it had happened and there certainly was no going
back on it. Alvarez wanted to start the conversation but knew it was a
difficult subject to even to begin to approach. He did not know if it was the
drugs or not, but he had not felt so exhilarated in the grips of sex in such a
long time. And even when he had been with Maritza, most of the times it had not
been as intense as it had been that one time with Ryan O'Reily.

"Alvarez,
look---it was the drugs, okay? My fucked up father killing Neema. It---it put
me in the same position as before. Like it was with Cyril. Oh, Cyril," he tried
to explain that day. "My lost feelings for Gloria."

"I know. I know.
Hey, you don't have to explain. I just thought we were going to try and figure
out everything that happened."

"I don't know if
I want to know. I did something I fucking swore to myself would never happen.
And especially in this pisshole."

"You got to
relax, Ryan," the Latino calmly said. "You got to take the edge off, you know?"

"That's easy for
you to say. You're not the one who had a dick shoved up your ass!" O'Reily
snapped and looked away as he quickly jumped up to his feet.

"No. Would that
make you feel better, though? Would it help you deal with it?"

"What?"

"If I let you do
it? If I let you fuck me?" Alvarez said in a way that was mostly unreadable.

"What? Are you
insane, Alvarez? You want to get fucked?" he turned around and asked as their
eyes met.

"Not
particularly. I'd be lying if I said I didn't think about it a couple times
before, though. Especially after we did it."

"So why offer
yourself like that, then?"

Alvarez stood up
and said, "Because we're partners, Ryan. We're equal, right? I know what
happened is bothering you. Maybe this would take some of that away. Take the
edge off."

"I don't know.
Everything is so fucking confusing between us."

"Yeah. I know."

"Can we drop
this?" O'Reily said out of nowhere. "Tell me about the kid before we go. Gio."

"You know him?"

"Spoke once in
the laundry room. What's up with him? I see him hanging around you. Is he from
your neighborhood?"

Alvarez was not
at all surprised by this but he was curious as to what they had spoken about.
If he knew O'Reily, and he did, the man had probably tried to see if Vieyra
knew any information. He had probably picked the young Latino's brain without
him even knowing he was fishing for information. The Irishman was superiorly
skillful at that after all. Now was as good a time as any to tell him about his
arrangement with Gio Vieyra.

"Not at all. The
kid has never been out on the streets a day in his life. He's raw to
experiences like this."

"Damn. I kind of
figured from talking to him. What a way to start getting street experience---in
prison. He'll be an easy target for anybody," O'Reily already pieced the words
together and said.

"Tell me about
it. He sticks out as much as a virgin would in this fuckhole. Even has Calderón
sniffing around him."

"He's as good as
dead if that deranged bastard's locked on to his scent. If he smells blood,
that kid is long gone."

"Sounds like
someone else I know," Alvarez said and half smiled. "You see blood and it's
over."

"Maybe. But I
kill to survive. El Cartel kills for sport. He's a sick fuck that gets off on
that shit. I don't."

"You don't have
to tell me that, víbora. I know you."

"Yeah, well---"
the Irishman said and it became slightly awkward again.

"Hey, listen. I
told him, you know, I'd look out for him. You know, be his eyes and ears."

"What? What are
you talking about? Why would you do that?"

"He's a lost
kid, O'Reily. I just want to see him get the hell out of here. I won't let El
Cartel fuck another one of us up. He knows I got the kid's back."

"If El Cartel's
on his ass then he's damaged already. This shit is bad, Miguel. El Cartel could
use him to get to you, and could figure out our partnership," O'Reily said and
did not sound too supportive of his decision. "It's too dangerous to be seen
with him. Especially if you're rubbing it in El Cartel's face."

He did not
believe the words that were being spoken from the Irishman. It was getting him
upset but he had to remain composed because the conversation was not going to
escalate into an argument. There had been too many arguments that had strained
their partnership in the past. Alvarez closed his eyes and rubbed fingers over
his forehead and cheek because he wanted to find the right words to say.
Protecting Vieyra was something he wanted to do because he felt it to be the
right move. El Cartel was never going to get his poisonous hooks into the young
Latino.

"Listen to
yourself, O'Reily. He's a goddamn kid. Not a fucking broken toy to throw away,"
the Latino strongly said. "He doesn't know anything about this fucked up world.
I won't let Calderón get his hands on him and drag him down. I'll make sure of
that."

"He did the
crime, so he's not that innocent. He can take care of himself. He's not a
fucking kid anymore. You don't need to babysit him."

"You know how
dangerous it is in here. Someone like him won't last long. I'm not asking for
your permission," Alvarez said because he did not need approval to look out for
one of his own.

"Why are we
talking about it, then? You already made your move," O'Reily asked and was more
than annoyed by the implication.

"Just letting
you know. Didn't want you to think I was hiding it from you. You know, doing
shit behind your back."

"Okay---I
deserved that."

"I know you did.
That's why I said it."

You want me to
keep an eye on him too. Am I somewhere close?" he made the assumption from
Alvarez's tone. "Tell me I'm somewhere close."

"I wouldn't
refuse it if you did. Come on, Ryan. You know he won't survive in here by
himself. He doesn't deserve to die because of one stupid mistake he made on the
outside," Alvarez said to try to convince his partner. "You know Calderón will
want him dead when he gets tired of the cat and mouse game. And I can't keep my
eyes on him all the time."

"You realize
what the fuck you're asking, Alvarez? No. I only offer that kind of protection
when I'm in business with someone and getting something in return. This kid has
nothing I want."

"I told him I
would keep him safe. I can't take that shit back now."

"That's your
mistake, then. You can't guarantee that. Just like you can't guarantee that
you'll be safe yourself when Calderón goes on the warpath," the Irishman said
and did not believe the other man's inexperience in handling the situation.
"He's eventually going to get tired of you saying no to him, too."

"Because---I got
you. And you got me. This fucking partnership keeps me safe. I believe that. I
fucking believe that more than anything right now," the Latino said another
piece of truth. "He needs us, Ryan."

O'Reily remained
silent at the words because he did not know what to say. Alvarez seemed
determined to get them both on the same page about the young kid. He was an
opportunist and that became especially prominent when he was thrown behind
bars. He only used people to get what he wanted and then had abandoned them to
move on to the next business arrangement. It was his only way of survival. What
the Latino was asking of him was to be selfless and to do something without the
promise of anything in return.

"What do you
mean---like together? You want to tell him about our partnership?" O'Reily
finally said by firing off questions.

"No. Just keep
an eye on him without letting him know. He doesn't need to know anything about
our alliance."

"This is crazy."

"That's why you
call me loco, baby," Alvarez smiled at him.

"You too goddamn
cocky sometimes," he said and had to smile too.

"Hey---it's kept
me alive in here."

"Goddamn you,
Alvarez. How the hell can I say no when you put me in a position like this?"
the Irishman said and did not like that he felt backed into a corner.

"That's the
point. You can't."

"Fuck it. We got
to get to the hospital."

"I'll have Dr.
Nathan draw blood today. Even though I know I don't have anything," the Latino
said and got ready to leave. "Later, Irish."